The Instinct of a Survivor
by evening spirit
Summary: After his semi-failed mission to break Skye, Grant Ward returns home


**Summary:** After his semi-failed mission to break Skye, Grant Ward returns home.

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**The Instinct of a Survivor**

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When they land and the ramp lowers, Ward and Deathlock are welcomed by the black eyes of the riffles. Eight of them. It's no surprise really; Ward knows he made a mistake. He knows there will be consequences. One of the guards lowers his gun and approaches him, cuffs in hand, warily. Ward smirks and shakes his head. It's all unnecessary, those eight men in full assault gear. One would be enough. Oh, okay, maybe two to make it look more threatening. He isn't going to resist; he's home after all.

Deathlock leaves without even sparing him a glance.

When Ward is well cuffed and disarmed, he receives a blow to the knees from the back and at the same moment the handle of a riffle straight to his broken ribs. He can't help a groan. Another blow lands on his face, and the next one, straight to the solar plexus, nearly makes his heart stop. Again. He sees all the stars of the Universe.

Yes, okay, he deserves a punishment for allowing a rookie to blow his cover, but really? This?

Fortunately the beating stops, he's dragged up onto his feet and pushed ahead. He walks. As proud as he can, despite being nudged and jabbed and forced to run with his hands tied behind his back, despite blood dripping from his chin. He wants to show Garrett that he's still strong, he can withstand this humiliation.

They lock him up in a dark cell.

It's pitch black and it takes about fifteen minutes for Ward to get out of the cuffs and start palpating the walls and searching for the ceiling. The latter is startlingly low, not more than four fingers above his head. Walls are each three strides long, smooth, solid and there are no windows in them, only the door through which he entered. The only furniture is the bucket.

Having checked his surroundings Ward squats in the corner away from the door and tries to calm down. Despite telling himself that he would take whatever Garrett throws at him, his heart is racing now. It's a physiological response, the body is never entirely under control of the mind. But he can slowly rein it in. Even despite the pain in his chest and vertigo in his head.

Unwanted thoughts creep in.

Why?

He knows why. He shouldn't be asking that, moreover – he shouldn't be angry. He messed up, it's clear. Somehow, Skye found out about him being Hydra. At some point he did something that blew his cover. And he didn't realize quick enough that she was playing him. He suspected something, felt uneasy ever since they left the base, ever since they were leaving the base – there was a slight shift in her whole demeanor. But he didn't want to face it. Didn't want to admit that his ploy wasn't as perfect as he'd alwas prided himself to be. And he didn't want to face the consequences, because if his cover was blown, the only action he should have taken was to bring Skye here and have her endure what has befallen him now.

No.

That's not true, because if it was, it would mean he cared for her and he. Didn't.

Is that what Garrett is mad about? That Ward got compromised because of his feelings for the rookie? But those feelings weren't real. He kept telling her he loved her only to gain her cooperation, compassion, to play her. Garrett has to believe that.

Why isn't he coming?

He will. Given time, he will. He wants to show Ward the consequences for failure and Ward knows he deservs all of it. Even if Garrett is wrong about his guilt. Oh, okay, so the punishment will probably be more severe than he initially expected. All the more Ward must be strong, he must show his SO that he's not a complete disappointment.

He isn't sure how much time goes by. He's trained to be able to gauge the passage of hours and minutes even in the diriest circumstances. This pitch black cell actually was a part of his training already. This time though, added to the discomfort of the darkness, is pain. He knows it's not as long as he thinks it is. It feels like hours, when it fact it's probably only about one. His eyes are closing but he has to stay awake, because when asleep, he can't tell hours from minutes. He wonders when he has last slept. He can go for days without sleep, he knows that, but it's physiology again. Sooner or later his brain will succumb. He figures he last had some rest before the raid on the Fridge. So he's been awake for over thirty hours, probably more like forty already. Still, it's not even two days. If it wasn't for the headache, he would easily stay up two more. With the headache?...

He doesn't know when he goes under. It isn't probably more than a few seconds. He rests his forehead on his knees and a bright light assaults his eyes, like a thrust of a sharp blade right above the bridge of his nose. He tries to shield from the source of that brightness but it seems like the walls themselves are shining, the floor and the ceiling. He blinks rapidly and feels tears stream down his face, salt in them stinging in all the cuts.

Yeah, not allowing the opponent to sleep is a form of torture too.

He can hold up.

If only Garrett would come and tell him what this is about. Ward thinks he pretty much figured it out but how can he be sure? How can he know for certain? Maybe there was something else with the drive, maybe it got damaged? Maybe he left some clue for Coulson? Maybe Skye did? He let Skye leave the clue. It wouldn't matter anyway now, Skye is with Coulson again, he came for her. Damn it, he came for her in person. A small pang of admiration for the man and for his instinct to protect those under his command sears through Grant's chest. He squashes it immediately. He was there to infiltrate the team, not to get attached. Garrett protects his own as well, he protects them even better – fits them with enough knowledge and experience, so they'd be able not to get into trouble in the first place. Ward was never in trouble when in the field. He's in trouble now.

His eyes adjust to the light.

The only problem, really, is that the light causes his head to pound, like it's about to burst with each heart beat. Other than that, he would be able to hold up for weeks. He still can, if not for weeks then days. Many days. As long as Garrett deems fit. It can't be too long after all, they are at war, he needs his best specialist. He can't keep him here forever.

Must be hours again. Ward uses the bucket to pee in it. A while later he wonders if he will get anything to drink or eat. He is hungry and thirsty but he can last longer without food and water than without sleep. Worst case scenario – he'll drink from the bucket. Exhaustion is his worst enemy. Exhaustion and pain. At least his oppressors aren't inflicting any more pain.

Not oppressors, he remembers. It's Garrett and he's doing it for his own good.

He's not a member of Coulson's team captured by the Hydra. He is Hydra.

What was it Skye said? That he was a Nazi? History was never one of his best subjects back at school – if he was at school at all – but weren't Nazis those who made soap from human fat after gassing tens of people crammed in a room of the size of this cell? Who made children, women and men work in concentration camps, giving them only hunger rations, on minimal rest, and killing those too weak to keep up – in gass chambers, shooting was considered a mercy – no matter if they were elders or six-year-olds? No, that must have been some weird story he'd heard somewhere. Or if it was true, then he sure as hell wasn't a Nazi. He killed people alright, but they were his enemies. They were always those who would have killed him otherwise. No children. Never children. And certainly not this way.

All this thinking about Nazis makes him wonder how far Garrett would go with the torture. Ward knows that what he's going through right now is mild, it's a caress really. He's seen what his mentor could do. But his goal is always to get information, to break his enemies or at least to punish them. Not simply to... Ward doesn't even know what the purpose of those concentration camps was. Why keep children and old people there, why torture them? Just thinking about it makes his brain melt.

He wonders how Coulson would treat a captured enemy. He witnessed it a couple of times. The Asgardian professor. Coulson gave Ward permission to go wild, to stab the man. Be careful not to damage anything life threatening – he said. A clean cut. He witnessed Ian Quinn. It was May who went in all the way but it was out of rage, not calculated. And it wasn't with Coulson's blessing, Coulson stopped her.

Ward wonders what Coulson would do if he captured him. Would there be torture? Interrogation for sure but Ward wouldn't give him anything. What could he do? Beat him up? He might send Triplet to get it from Ward, his new specialist. Triplet took Ward's place with the team, the thought suddenly makes Grant's stomach scrunch. Triplet is now the one joking with Simmons, the one Skye confides in. At least Fitz doesn't like the guy. Triplet is the one who was trained by Garrett, he would know how to force someone to talk. Someone, but not Ward. Ward is sure that Garrett had never shown him the real deal, hadn't treated Triplet the way he treats Ward now. They were not that close, couldn't be. Triplet may be Coulson's new specialist, but he was never Garrett's favorite.

Coulson believes people too easily. Integrating with his team wasn't that hard of a job, really. Initially, there was some level of doubt on Coulson's part, but it wasn't exactly distrust. Perhaps a bit of uncertainty. But his willingness to take care of a troubled young man, to help him out of his shell, to smooth those porcupine needles – wasn't Hill just perfectly fooled to draw this silly thing – Coulson's protector instinct quickly surpassed all other ideas he might have had. What if Ward tried to convince him he defected? That he got away. He would run to Coulson, would tell him that those months with him made him see the light, see the true friendship, true devotion to other team members. He'd say he's willing to share all Hydra secrets, all those he knows at least.

Would Coulson believe that? How long would it take for him to take Grant back into the fold? Realistically, Grant knows it would never happen. Not even if he explained everything, told him why he was with the team. It was relatively harmless, actually, he was there just to gather intel on how Coulson survived. That, then – back then – maybe Coulson and the others would forgive. Things got messy after Quinn shoot Skye but Grant really had nothing to do with that. He might have explained it at the time and maybe they would buy it. But it all got real when Hydra came out of the dark. Ward killed people, too many people to ever be pardoned. He would have to sell S.H.I.E.L.D. something big if he wanted to truly switch sides and even that might not suffice. Besides, he isn't sure he has something like this.

He could pry on their compassion again. The troubled past, the whole truth about his troubled past. Skye doesn't believe that, she wouldn't believe anything he'd say anymore, but others? Simmons? Grant remembers all those times she took care of him after a bullet, after a graze, a beating. He'd never had that before. He hadn't needed cooing and fussing and Simmons wasn't providing any but he felt genuine care about his wellbeing. If she were here now, she would berate him for aggravating those broken ribs, for not obeying her command to rest and give his body time to heal. But she would have applied new bandages, would have given him something for the pain.

If he were still part of her team. If he weren't? She knows the truth by now, they all do. They know not to trust him, not to believe anything coming out of his mouth. He would have to defect for real, then maybe they would believe. If he told them Garrett tortured him. After all Skye saw firsthand that Garrett was ready to gamble with his life. Didn't that stirr her compassion? Deathlock said she only decided to bring him back after he asked her if she wanted to become a murderer. He stressed that she did it to protect her own conscience, not Ward's life but maybe he was lying? The half-robot, what did he know anyway? Skye must have felt something.

She felt something before. They all felt something for him before.

The sound of the key turning in the lock sounds like a gun discharge in the complete silence Ward has been in so far. It startles him, makes him jump and back up against the wall. Ready to fight for there's no option to flight from the cell.

Garrett enters and the door closes behind him. He stands and stares.

Ward tries to become one with the wall behind his back.

"Did you want to betray me?" Garrett asks finally, after a very, very long time. Ward shakes his head. "I know what you're thinking," Garrett sneers. "You're thinking – I was a member of Coulson's team and they fight for their own, that's what you're thinking. You remember to what lengths he went to save Skye. He moved heaven and earth, went to hell and back. That's the kind of man he is and you believe he would do the same for every member of his team, don't you?" He pokes Grant's head, mocking. "For May, for Fitz, for Simmons. He was willing to risk the whole plane, trusting the little biochem would come up with the cure when she was infected, wasn't he? He was ordered to take her down and he disobeyed, he chose to protect her." Garret stands less than a couple of inches away from Grant when he spits into his face, "You wish he did the same thing for you. Don't lie." He adds before Ward has a chance to deny. "He softened you."

"No, he didn't," Ward utters and Gerrett slaps him so hard his head bobs.

"I said, don't lie!"

Ward straightens his pose. He looks into Garrett's eyes and he doesn't flinch. He's not soft.

"I'm not soft," he says hoping his voice sounds strong. It doesn't.

"No?" Garrett mocks.

"No."

"Then tell me, Grant. Tell me, if I had ordered you, back there, on that plane, to kill Skye, would you have? Think!" he rises his voice. "Before you answer. I want to hear the truth."

Grant swallows hard. He can't lie, he knows he can't lie. Garrett may not be clairvoyant but he knows his protégé far too well. He closes his eyes and thinks. Remembers. How he felt on that plane, what he thought. What he did. Everything he did was to make sure Skye didn't end up in Garrett's hands. He had to make her open the hard drive for him, so he wouldn't have to take her in, make her go through Garrett's torture. Would he have killed her?

"I wouldn't have," he admits with resignation. "But not because I fell in love with her!" he assures suddenly. He was not in love with Skye, it was... he doesn't know what it was.

Garrett makes a mocking gesture. "Love, not love." He walks away the length of the cell, then turns back. "It's all the same. You got attached. You got attached to all of them, Grant." What's in Garrett's eyes now, is reproach, disappointment. "It would be the same with any of them: Coulson, those two scientists, the Cavalry. Yes, even with her. You wouldn't be able to kill any of them right now. Which is why I can't trust you." He sighs. He looks at Ward with such regret, with so much sadness and grief right now, that Ward feels ashamed. He finally understands what this is about. He understands how much he failed his superior. Garrett walks back to him and puts a hand on Ward's arm. "Grant," he says softly, sincerely, "I want to be able to trust you. I need that. You know how important you are to me. You know how much I count on you. I need to know that I can. That I will have that, again."

All Ward's able to do is nod. He doesn't trust his voice not to fail him now, he feels a choking ball in his throat and he squirms with disgust for himself. For how much he let this team thing get to him.

Garrett is reading his mind again, oh, how well he reads him.

"You're not an idiot, Grant," he says. "I've always valued you for your intelligence. Was I wrong? Tell me I was not wrong. Tell me you can't possibly think that after all that happened, all that you have done – you can't think that Coulson still considers you a member of his team? You are his greatest enemy." He leans closer and whispers straight into Ward's ear. "And he is yours." Garrett pulls away and looks into Ward's eyes. Ward meets his gaze with newly found resolve and determination and Garrett nods. He smiles. "I know I will be able to count on you again. One day. I will need you to go back to them once more, and I'll need it to happen soon. I need those two little scientists, I'll need you to bring them to me. Not today, but soon. And I have to be sure you'll be able to do that, that you will be able to kill the rest of them if necessary. You're a survivor, Grant." He looks at Ward with hope, with a touch of pride. "I know you will find it in you to make sure you'll survive this."

After Garrett leaves, Grant thinks that he is, indeed, a survivor. Has always been. Part of being a survivor is finding his niche, the place and the people who would best protect him. Garrett, no matter what he did in the meantime, in the end has always been able to keep him alive. Could he really say that about Coulson? Coulson, who was willing to risk his own life for his companions, who expected all the members of his team to risk their lives at some point? With a man like this in the lead, survival wasn't ever guaranteed.

And then, Grant briefly wonders if it is enough, to simply survive. If one doesn't also need to be worthy of survival.

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.end

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**AN:** Totally unexpected and probably coincidental (brain-twin?) kind-of continuation of this story was written by The North Wyn: "Recalibration" ( web address ends with: "s/10327578/1/Recalibration" Why doesn't this site allow for links? ungh!)


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